text_original: It began to seem too good, almost too romantic, to be true. To think of the gramophone wedded to the thin sweet singing of the olive leaves in the evening wind; to remember the scent of his rank cigar marrying with this wild incense; to read that enchanted name, "Inn of Tranquillity," and hear the bland and affable remark of the gentleman who owned it—such were, indeed, phenomena to stimulate souls to speculation.
text_transcription: IT BEGAN TO SEEM TOO GOOD ALMOST TOO ROMANTIC TO BE TRUE TO THINK OF THE GRAMOPHONE WEDDED TO THE THIN SWEET SINGING OF THE OLIVE LEAVES IN THE EVENING WIND TO REMEMBER THE SCENT OF HIS RANK CIGAR MARRYING WITH THIS WILD INCENSE TO READ THAT ENCHANTED NAME IN OF TRANQUILLITY AND HEAR THE BLAND AND AFFABLE REMARK OF THE GENTLEMAN WHO OWNED IT SUCH WERE INDEED PHENOMENA TO STIMULATE SOULS TO SPECULATION
phonemes: ɪt bɪɡˈæn tə sˈiːm tˈuː ɡˈʊd, ˈɔːlmoʊst tˈuː ɹoʊmˈæntɪk, təbi tɹˈuː. tə θˈɪŋk ʌvðə ɡɹˈæməfˌoʊn wˈɛdᵻd tə ðə θˈɪn swˈiːt sˈɪŋɪŋ ʌvðɪ ˈɑːlɪv lˈiːvz ɪnðɪ ˈiːvnɪŋ wˈɪnd; tə ɹᵻmˈɛmbɚ ðə sˈɛnt ʌv hɪz ɹˈæŋk sᵻɡˈɑːɹ mˈæɹiɪŋ wɪð ðɪs wˈaɪld ˈɪnsɛns; tə ɹˈiːd ðæt ɛntʃˈæntᵻd nˈeɪm, "ˈɪn ʌv tɹæŋkwˈɪlᵻɾi," ænd hˈɪɹ ðə blˈænd ænd ˈæfəbəl ɹᵻmˈɑːɹk ʌvðə dʒˈɛntəlmən hˌuː ˈoʊnd ɪt—sˈʌtʃ wɜː, ˌɪndˈiːd, fɪnˈɑːmɪnə tə stˈɪmjʊlˌeɪt sˈoʊlz tə spˌɛkjʊlˈeɪʃən.